


The Elusive Match

by crocatta



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Pride & Prejudice AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocatta/pseuds/crocatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pride & Prejudice AU. When rich bachelor David Nolan moves to Storybrooke, Emma Swan could not care any less. His friend Killian is a different story. She hates him with a passion, but she is the only one who can't see that they'd be the cutest couple in existence (Mary Margaret's words, not hers).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is all exposition, so bear with me until the next one.

    It is a truth universally acknowledged that any legal adult still living in their parent and/or guardian's household needs to start their life ASAP, or they will end up living there for all eternity, dying broke and alone. That's what Granny said, anyway, but that was just to speed up the process of them actually moving out. "I've got the landlord breathing down my neck every time I turn around," she'd say, "He's raking up the prices day by day, and I don't get paid to keep you anymore." Granny did love them, just in her own special way that was difficult to see unless you'd already figured it out. She loved everyone at Granny's Unofficial Foster Home for Adolescent and Post-Adolescent Girls that way.

    She'd taken in five of them over the years, six if you counted her only biological granddaughter, Ruby, and it had been Emma's home for seven years. Now that she was eightteen, the pressure to "move out and start her life" was becoming so unbearable that she was one Granny-breakdown away from living in a refrigerator box on the side of the road, so long as Mary Margaret or Regina came with her. But no, Granny would not let that happen. She wanted them out of the house, but she wanted them out of the house with somewhere safe and financially secure to live, which was why she was currently stalking some rich dude who was in town. Something Nolan. Emma didn't care enough to listen.

     Belle and Ruby were a different story. As Granny was grilling their neighbor for information, Ruby, kind and generous soul that she was, had her ear pressed to the keyhole while Belle was left to awkwardly lay on the floor to scrape out what she could from the crack between the door and the hardwood. Emma would laugh if she didn't love her enough to pity her.

     They'd become a rather large, rather mismatched family of sorts, like a circus of orphans, bastards, runaways, and those left behind.

     Regina was the oldest. She left her family when she was thirteen, and for twelve years, she succesfully avoided talking about them or what happened to them or with them...Even as Regina's best friend (which neither of them would ever admit), Emma didn't have a clue. Whatever did happen, though, turned her into the single most cynical person Emma had ever met.

     Belle was twenty-three with an astounding love for books, and it wasn't unusual for Belle to spend days at a time without actually talking to anyone because she wouldn't stop reading her damn book. She said that they helped her through her parents' deaths, so no one ever questioned or teased her about it. Belle was a good person, except when she was drunk. If she ever got a drop of alcohol in her, she turned into an unholy (in  _every_ sense of the phrase) alter ego that Regina nicknamed "Lacey."

     Ruby, in twenty-one years, had dated more guys than Emma had ever even gotten the number of (and "dated" was being used loosely). Maybe it was because she had the best game of any of them, maybe it was because she had the shortest, tightest wardrobe out of any of them. It didn't matter to Emma, but it was just really fucking impressive (pun intended). 

     Mulan was the youngest and the only one left who was  legally still in the system. She was sixteen. All Emma knew was that after her father's death in the army when she was five, she lived with her grandmother until her death two years later. She was reserverd, quiet, and the biggest badass in the universe. Mulan also had a thing for really crappy coffee. 

     Then there was Mary Margaret, the single sweetest human being anyone would ever meet in their entire life. She was nineteen. Her father had only died three years ago, but she was already so much a part of their family that Emma thought that it could hardly function without her.

     Emma herself had always been in the system. Her parents didn't want her as a baby, so she got tossed around from shitty place to shittier place until Granny Lucas took her in after eleven years of pure hell. Here she stayed through every crisis, every wrinkle. It was what Emma called home, and she was not so sure that she wanted to leave that behind, even when Granny was screaming at their neighbor for no apparent reason other than she wanted one of them to marry rich.

     Leroy left Granny's office looking grumpy (grumpier, anyway. He just had one of those faces). "When you talk to your grandmother," he grumbled, pointing at Ruby, "You tell her the only reason I haven't cracked yet is because she said there was apple pie somewhere in this joint."

     "She wants to talk to me now?" Ruby said with the face of true terror.

     "She's ready when you are, sister."

      Ruby left, mouthing the words "run while you can." Leroy, who had hoped to eat the piece of pie that he'd just sliced in peace, found his hopes shattered when Belle crowded around him. "What do you want?"

      She leaned in closer. "Details, of course. Who is this guy?"

      "Old friend of mine. 'S name's David Nolan. Your Granny was bothered because apparently I'm required to introduce all you ladies to any potential sugar daddies."

     "'Sugar daddies'?" Belle said incredulously. "I can assure you Leroy, if I'm marrying anyone, it'll be for love."

      Emma piped in. "I wouldn't put it past Regina, if they were powerful enough."

     The brunette shook her head. "Well, I'm not Regina."

     "Maybe not," Leroy said through a bite of Granny's pie, "But the rest of us ain't as optimistic about love as you are."

     "What about that girl you were with? Astrid? I've never seen you happier, and it was because of love."

     "And love's what got me into this mess in the first place. She's a nun, I'm a premature alcoholic. It just wasn't happening, sister."

     Belle and Emma excanged looks. Leroy used to have dreams to move out of Storybrooke with Astrid by his side so that they could travel the world together, but after the fall out (and the intervention by the objectively kind but pretentious Mother Superior) Leroy went downhill.

     Desperately, Emma switched the topic. "So what do you know about this David Nolan guy?"

     "About his recent adventures? Not much. He and I were gonna catch up at Ashley's party tonight-"

     "Which is why she was grilling you." Emma sighed. "Oh god, she really does want you to introduce us to a potential sugar daddy."

     "A potential sugar daddy and his two friends. Well, one of them's a girl, if any of you ladies are into that. Katherine Midas. Can't remember the guys name. First name something funny sounding, last name Jones. I don't know, but I was planning on introducing you  _without_ Granny's one-sided screaming match, so that was just pointless."

     "Wait, you were planning on introducing us?" said Belle, full coffee cup in hand.

     "Well, yeah. I'm the only person he knows in this goddamn town, so I figured 'why not introduce him to someone who isn't the town drunk?' It's called being neighborly." Belle placed the black coffee on the counter in front of Leroy. "How'd you know?"

     She shrugged. "You're extra grouchy when you've been drinking."

     "That's rich, coming from the weepy drunk and Lacey." Okay,  _maybe_ a few people besides Emma and Regina were privy to the nickname. It might have been the whole town. Whatever, it didn't stop Lacey from making the bar her "stage."

    "Like I said," Belle muttered, "Grouchy."

     Ruby entered the kitchen looking surprisingly (and suspiciously) cheerful and not capable of murder. "Get dressed," she said, stealing a bite of Leroy's pie (which Leroy  _did_ look capable of murder for).

     Emma sarcastically looked down. "Am I not dressed now?"

     "You know what I mean. Granny's orders."

     "Since when do you take orders from Granny?" That was a legitimate question. No, seriously. It was how Ruby got arrested for underage drinking at age 14. And got arrested for breaking into the zoo. (That was the same night.)

     "Since Granny's orders cater to  _my interests._ "

      _Dear god am I gonna regret this,_ Emma thought. "What are Granny's orders?"

      Ruby's grin was predatory. "Get Mary Margaret. We've got to find her something to wear to Ashley's party tonight that doesn't make her look like she's going to church."

 


	2. Ashley's Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Mary Margaret both meet people that hold significance in their futures, but have entirely different encounters from one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! The next chapter should be up tomorrow if all goes as planned.

     After a few hours of Mary Margaret vetoing anything and everything Regina owned (too intimidating), Emma owned (too low-cut), and Ruby owned (too low-cut, too short, too tight, and seriously did she own anything that _wasn't_ red?), Mary Margaret borrowed a white dress from Belle, a choice everyone  _strongly_   warned her against, but Emma figured it was up to Mary Margaret to learn her lesson when beer was inevitably staining her decision as soon as she walked into Sean's house.

     Ashley's parties were a bit of a local legend. For the last three years, her boyfriend Sean had been surrendering his huge-ass house to her so that she could throw even bigger-ass ragers any time his parents were out of town. About half of Storybrooke's most notable recent news was a product of Ashley's parties, and the Granny's crew had its fair share of history invested into them, also. Lacey made her debut appearance two years ago, and Emma lost her virginity to some douche named August in a broom closet six months ago (he never called her back, she didn't really want him to).

     Of Storybrooke's most notable recent news, the most notable and recent of the news was that the mysterious David Nolan was going to show up...if Leroy's intel was correct. "He'll show up," Leroy promised, "He told me he would, and he is the most morally righteous person I have ever met."

     "There go my chances with him," Regina deadpanned, not taking her eyes off of the road.

     "I'm serious. If he accidentally hit a squirrel, he'd try and turn himself in to the cops. He's so nice that it's infuriating."

     "We should set him up with Mary Margaret," Emma said.

     Regina chuckled sarcastically. "So he could have sickeningly saccharine offspring with Little Miss Unicorns, Rainbows, and 'Gosh, Isn't Life Grand?' No thank you."

     Mary Margaret piped up from the backseat. "Regina, I do not talk like that."

     "Yes, you do."

     "Fine, but you still have no bearing on my love life." Not ones to be left out, Belle and Ruby joined in, saying things like "love is love" and "why would you not want her to have a happy ending."

     Regina looked over to Emma and Leroy. "The optimists are outweighing us. I suggest preparing for battle."

     "Hey, I am _not_ a pessimist," Emma argued, "I'm a realist."

     "Emma, if you think that's realism, that's definitely pessimistic."

     They argued like that during the entire drive to Sean's, and when the car stopped, Leroy ran out of the car, yelling " _FREEDOOOOOOOOOM!"_ The alcoholic Wonder Twins left immediately for the main dance floor (aka: the foyer) and Mary Margaret got out, unconsciously twiddling with her ring, a nervous tick Emma learned to recognize a long time ago.

     "You okay?" asked Emma.

      She hesitated. "Yeah, it's just, uh, this just isn't my scene, Emma. I'm no party girl."

     "Yeah, I know. If you really want to, me or Regina can take you home, or you can call Mulan to come pick you up." Mulan had stayed behind at Granny's, claiming that if the cops showed up, there was no way she could pass for twenty-one at sixteen. She had a point, but Emma knew she wasn't telling the whole truth.

     Mary Margaret shook her head. "No, Emma. I'll be fine. I can find something to do. You guys go have fun"

     That was all Regina needed to drag Emma (almost pulling her arm out of its socket while doing so) to the large crowd encircling what Mary Margaret assumed was a supply of alcohol, not that she'd be going near it. She'd be going to the gardens, instead.

     Mrs. Herman, Sean's mother, knew all about Ashley's parties, and she only had one rule: cause any damage to the gardens, and the perpetrator would be tortured, mutilated, and kept captive in the basement until death by starvation. Well, her exact words were "please do not harm the flowers," but the threat of mutilation was heavily implied (that's how Mrs. Herman's azaleas managed to survive the Great Fire of Ashley's Party last summer. Some guy got third-degree burns from jumping in front of them while the fire was being put out. He was hailed as a town hero.)

     Mary Margaret figured that she wouldn't do any harm to Mrs. Herman's flowers, or, at least, she didn't have any method of starting a fire on her, so she pulled open the door to the greenhouse, not realizing that there was someone leaning against it.

     The way he fell back was almost comical- arms flailing around in a struggle for balance, cartoonishly wide eyes, double chins, the whole shebang- but Mary Margaret managed to catch him before he hit the ground. "I am so sorry," she apologized profusely while she helped him to his feet. "I didn't know you were there-"

     "No, it's my fault," he half-laughed, "It was a stupid idea to lean on a door, anyways." He was handsome, with well-styled blond hair and pretty, baby-blue eyes.

     "Why  _were_ you leaning on a door in the first place?"

     "Oh, well, I'm not really much of a party-goer. I'm only here because I told a friend I'd meet him, which I have to go do, but..." he smiled tentatively, "Maybe I'll see you later?"

     Mary Margaret smiled back. "I'd like that."

     His smile switched from hope to satisfaction. "Me, too," he said before leaving, and Mary Margaret didn't miss the way he looked back at her when he was walking away.

\----------

     What about Emma?

     Did she meet her knight in shining armor?

     Not even fucking close.

     When she and Regina got to the main foyer (aka: the dance floor), it didn't take long for Regina to get swept under the arm of a guy (or, rather, he got swept under her arm), and dancing alone is  _way_ less fun than dancing with someone else. Emma went to the cooler at the back corner of the room, partially for a beer and partially for the hot piece of ass brooding right next to it. He seemed to fit every cliche in the book- dark hair, dark clothing, excellent face (and other features), and was that  _guyliner?_ It was too dark to tell, but it worked  _fantastically_ well on him.

     "So are parties not your thing," Emma practically yelled over the music, "Or are you just  _really_ into brooding in a corner?"

     He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised (whether in amusement or surprise, Emma couldn't tell). "It depends," he said in an unfairly hot accent, "On what the party has to offer me in return."

     She shrugged. "Fun, possibly."

     "Fun?"

     "Yeah, dancing. That's one kind of fun, but I'm open to other options, because obviously you can't handle  _dancing_ , so-"

     "Perhaps  _you're_ the one who couldn't handle it," he interrupted, "You are, after all, 'brooding' in a corner with me."

     The corner of Emma's mouth tugged upwards ever so slightly. "I guess we'll just have to put that theory to the test," she almost _purred_ _._ God, Emma did not mean for it to come out  _that_ sexy, but hey, whatever works. She pulled him lightly by the wrist until they were surrounded by other people, forced to move closer to one another.

     His hand moved up and down her back, pressing gently, pushing her even closer, and she was going willingly until their foreheads were touching and his arms were wrapped around her waist. They had reached the point where even in the dark, she could make out the stormy blue of his eyes. Her own breath hitched, and her hands were making their way into his hair, his mouth was getting closer to hers, his hands were getting lower-

     And then her fucking phone went off.

     He froze. "Do you need to get that?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

      _No, I fucking don't, now let's continue what we were doing_ , she wanted to say, but it was Belle, and Belle  _never_ called unless she really needed something,  _but he was really fucking hot_ , but what if Belle needed _real, actual help..._

     "Yes," she said, trying to make the regret in her voice as obvious as she could.

     He stepped away with a bitter smirk scarring his features. "Alright, then." Emma wanted to apologize, to give him an explanation, but he was already walking away.

     She answered the call that just stopped her from getting what she expected would be a really good fuck with every intention of reaping a huge favor from Belle later, but it wasn't Belle who answered. It was Lacey, who was calling to ask if Emma would hold her hair back while she puked in a toilet.

     Emma intended to make her pay up  _big time._

     She handed Lacey a paper towel to get the puke off of her mouth. "I was about to get laid, you know, before you called."

     Lacey rolled her eyes. "Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. At least you didn't puke on the guy."

     " _That's_ because you drank an entire bottle of tequila. Who was it?"

     "I don't know. Might've been Gaston. Yours?"

     "He's not  _mine_ , and as for who he was, I don't have a clue, but he was hot. We left on a somewhat sour note, though, so I expect it to work out between me and him just as well as it will with you and Gaston if I go back out there."

     "You could try," Lacey said, a drunken smile contorting her features. "Just tell him it was a family emergency, because I'm family, and it _was_ an emergency."

     Emma raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure having to hold your hair back while you puke counts as a 'family emergency.'"

     "Fine. The next time you're drunk off your ass, I'll just let all the puke get in your hair so you can find out how much of an emergency it is." She took a swig from a bottle that came from god knows where. "Just go...try, at least. Flash a boob, or something."

     The crazy thing was, Emma was actually considering it. Not the boob-flashing thing (she'd leave all boob-flashing duties to Lacey), but she would try again. "Are you okay here?" Emma asked.

     "Yeah, sure. I'll be super. Just promise me one thing."

     "What would that be?"

     "Promise me you'll fuck this guy in a larger space than a broom closet," Lacey winked.

     Emma took her suggestion to heart. She re-entered the party with an Irish accent on her mind and confidence in her stride, confidence that didn't waver until she spotted him.

     With someone else pinned up against a wall.

     Emma didn't know why it bothered her so much. He was  _allowed_ to have what appeared would be  _very_ consensual sex with the redhead he was currently feeling up, but still, it was crawling up her skin and settling into her mind as if she had  _any_ right to be jealous (but she wasn't jealous. Not at all. She definitely did  _not_ want to be the one whose neck he was pressing his lips to. Nope.).

     She retreated back into the bathroom with Lacey, and she didn't wallow in her envy for like, half an hour (she certainly didn't let her envy spiral down into annoyance at him, and then fall even further to brewing hatred, because she didn't care enough about that douchebag to hope that he fell off of a cliff). Thank god for Leroy's text to distract her from not caring. It said that they had better get their asses outside right now, because the mysterious David Nolan had finally decided to show up.

     


	3. Ashley's Party (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Margaret and Emma officially meet David Nolan (yay!) and Killian Jones (ugh).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I took a little longer than I said (sorry!), but I'm going to try my best to update it at least once a week from now on (more than that if I can).

     Lacey struggled to her feet, her hair a mess and her make up smeared. Emma had to help her up, and supporting someone's weight while in stilettos is not something she'd like to do again. "You sure you want to meet him now?" Emma asked.

     "Why? Is something wrong?" she replied, clearly too inebriated to notice that she looked like a cheap stripper in clown make up who'd been run over by a semi-truck the evening prior.

     "No," Emma lied through her teeth, "I'll get Regina and Mary Margaret; you go find Ruby." She knew exactly what she was doing- Regina was still on the dance floor, Mary Margaret was already outside (most likely having noticed Leroy's text), and Ruby, on the other hand, had been M.I.A. since Lacey had arrived. Hopefully, this would allow them to make a good first impressive on Mr. Nolan, or at least a good enough impression that he'd withhold judgement when Bonnie and Clyde came crashing in.

     "Okay," Lacey agreed, thank god, "But it might take a while. Who  _knows_ what she's doing...if you catch my drift."

     "Yeah, I catch your drift." Emma took the half empty bottle away from Lacey. "Just don't drink anymore tonight, okay? You're liver is gonna start plotting revenge."

     "You don't control my life." She then departed on her quest, where (if Emma's past experiences were teaching her anything) she'd promptly get distracted by a new bottle of vodka (and/or guy) , giving Emma plenty of time to wrangle up Regina and apologize in advance for her big sisters' behavior. 

      Regina was waiting for Emma on the outskirts of the mob. She was infamous for her lack of people skills and was known to abandon ship when things even hinted at going south, and the combination of those two traits made Regina susceptible to an erratic codependency on whomever she knew best in the situation. Personally, Emma found it hilarious. She was like a cat, a  _very_ clingy cat who did everything she could to mask her clinginess. "Where'd you go?" she said, her tone all professional and accusatory.

     "Hey, if you want to take my place in Lacey Duty, be my guest, but you seemed rather busy."

     "With Sidney? Please. I have standards."

     "Then  _why_ were you dancing with him?"

     Regina rolled her eyes. " _That_ is entirely business related. No pleasure, I guarantee it." For about a year now, Regina had been working as a secretary in the Mayor's office. She'd come home multiple nights whining about how the Mayor, George Spencer, was a "corrupt nincompoop who wanted nothing to do with the town he was elected to serve," and she'd been surreptitiously working to dethrone him. Whatever she needed Sidney, the reporter with growing popularity, for was kept confidential, probably because everyone Regina knew would be tortured for information, if this was the crime drama Regina perceived it as, but Sidney saw it as more of a soap opera (if unrequited love/infatuation/creepy obsession was personified, it would come in the form of Sidney Glass, who Regina would then reject).

     "It's not very nice to manipulate people's feelings for you for the purpose of seizing power, Regina."

     "I never said it was nice. I said it was politics."

     Taking full advantage of air that didn't smell like frat guy, Emma and Regina left the house. Leroy was waiting for them by the tree with a blond dude that Emma assumed was the mysterious David Nolan. He wasn't the pretentious businessman she'd pictured in her head; on the contrary, he seemed friendly and surprisingly not like a stuck-up dickbag. "Hi!" he said, smiling like he'd seen old friends, then addressed Leroy, "Which ones are they?"

    "That's Emma," Leroy pointed, "And Regina."

     Emma held out her hand and smiled. "You must be David, right?"

    "Yeah, uh..." he trailed off, looking at something over Emma's shoulder, and his smile grew wider. Looking back, she saw Mary Margaret approaching with a similar expression. "Hey," he said.

     "Hey," she said, the pieces falling into place, "You're David Nolan?"

     "I'm pretty sure. You are?"

     "Mary Margaret."

     "Well, it's very nice to meet you officially, Mary Margaret."

     "I feel the same, David."

      Emma, Regina, and Leroy looked between themselves with a shared expression of "what the fuck just happened."  _I think I may vomit,_ Regina mouthed to Emma.

     Noticing the presence of other people, David was shaken out of his schoolboy trance. "My friends should be here soon," he turned to Leroy again, "How many did you say there were?'

     "Six," Leroy grumbled, and begun to explain Granny's Unofficial Foster Home to him, leaving out the financial situation and Granny's recent fixation on him. From a distance, she saw two people walking towards them- David's friends, a blonde woman and-

     Oh, hell no. 

     Hell fucking no. 

     Anything Mary Margaret was saying, Emma wasn't listening to anymore, because the Grade A Asshat she'd been grinding on tonight was approaching. In the corner of her eye, she saw that no one noticed Emma's drama except for Regina, whose eyes narrowed, but didn't say anything. Emma forced herself to at least pretend that she was paying attention and that she wasn't currently restraining herself from glaring at the man who was now only a few feet away. The blonde woman put a hand on David's shoulder. "Is this Leroy?" she asked, her voice tinted with disdain, "And his...friends?"

     "Neighbors," Leroy corrected, because he refused to acknowledge that he had anything higher than that, "Kathryn- Mary Margaret, Emma, Regina. Mary Margaret, Emma, Regina- this is Kathryn Midas and, uh..."

     "Killian," the man whose name is apparently  _Killian_ finished, "Killian  _Jones,_ if that bears any weight on your perception of me."

     Emma didn't recognize the name, but Regina did, for her eyebrows rose up to her hairline. "As in the shipping business?"

     "That'd be the one, yes." She looked impressed (and that  _never_ happened), but  _Killian_? Seriously? What a douchey name. It suited him perfectly. 

     Mary Margaret shook their hands eagerly, but Emma and Regina were a little bit more slow on the uptake (Regina because  she deliberately put off contact with anyone unknown or untrusted, Emma because she was reluctant to make eye contact with Tall, Dark, and Dumbass. As soon as she did, though, he held it and didn't seem to want to let go of it. God, what a creep).

     Desperate to switch the attention from the guy she would've fucked had Lacey's stomach stayed stable, she turned to the topic she first thought of, one that was actually quite eating away at her. "So how'd you two meet?" she asked, addressing David and Mary Margaret.

     David chuckled. "Well, long story short, I fell out of a door."

     "That's pretty much it," Mary Margaret agreed, with an unspoken  _I'll fill you in at home._

    "I'm definitely going to need a few more details," Regina said, but she wasn't looking at Mary Margaret.

     Emma gave her a tight-lipped smile that clearly stated  _please shut the fuck up right now. I'm already uncomfortable enough, damn you,_ before stating, "I'm sure you'll get  _all_ of the details eventually." Shit, now Mary Margaret's brow was furrowing. At least Leroy wasn't picking up on it; well, she really couldn't tell. His brow was perpetually furrowed.

    Regina swept in, thank god. That woman could keep a cool head if she was about to be executed (she'd probably manage to insult her executioner, as well). "I, for one, need another drink. Emma?"

    "More than you know," Emma muttered in reply. She shot a tight-lipped smile to everyone in the group (sans Jones. She made very well sure that her smile had faded by the time she looked at him). Regina noticed (again) and pulled her closer by the elbow as they walked away so that she could speak without being heard by the remainders.

    "Tell me everything," she said, more interested than concerned, "And spare no detail."

    Emma told her everything- how she approached him, how her heart had picked up the pace as she was pulled closer to him, the regret of leaving them both high and dry, the anger and insipid jealousy she felt when she saw him with someone else- and she spared no detail (which Regina appreciated immensely. Scandal and gossip were her addiction, especially when, as Emma did not know, the man she'd approached was one of the wealthiest men in the country. Someone sign her up for rehab ASAP, because this was gonna be a fucking roller coaster).

    "That's not as dramatic as you think it is," Regina lied (ish), "It was your choice to go help Lacey, it was his choice to back another woman into a wall. It's no insult to  _you_ , Emma, so don't take it personally." 

     _She has a point_ , Emma thought, _Maybe I should just let it go._ That's exactly what she tried to do. Emma got another drink, danced with some strangers, and successfully avoided dwelling on negative feelings toward Killian Jones. Until she overheard him talking to David, at least.

    Emma was sitting on the staircase (stilettos fucking hurt, okay?) hidden by the railing. Jones was back to lurking in the corner, and unfortunately, he chose the corner he didn't know was only a few feet from her. She planned to keep it unknown, as ignoring him was currently the simplest option. From her spot, Emma could see the majority of her group. Leroy was drinking (as usual), Regina was dancing (predictably), Ruby and Lacey were a few drinks away from alcohol poisoning (of course), and Mary Margaret and David Nolan were dancing together (finally), their ballroom-like style out of place with the horny teenagers. Lost in each others eyes, they could be an Austen novel, just without all of the period clothing and Colin Firth in a wet shirt (not that Emma would be that against either, as long as she got to keep the modern values and more suitable plumbing).

     With eyes suspiciously heart-shaped, David practically waltzed over to Jones. "You should try dancing," she overheard David say, "It sure as hell won't kill you."

    "Maybe not," Jones drawled, "But your ridiculously ostentatious sentiments might."

     David sighed, either in fondness or exasperation. Or both. "Kathryn  _told_ me she saw you dancing with Emma-" She perked up at the mention of her name.

     Jones cut him off. " _Emma_ was a distraction. Decent enough, but not worth my time." 

     Not worth his...who the fuck did he think he was? Guys not contacting her at all she could deal with; that's what she'd been dealing with for all of her romantic endeavors, but straight up  _insulting_ her? Regina's advice of not taking it personally was long gone. Killian Jones was a pretentious dick who used women for sex, without any respect for them at all. They were just  _distractions_ to him. Emma stopped listening, because if _she_ wasn't worth  _his_ time, he sure as hell wasn't worth hers.

    She snuck off of the staircase, and because they drove in Regina's car and Emma didn't have the keys, found the first person she recognized- one of Leroy's roommates, Doc- and hitched a ride back to Granny's without a word to Mary Margaret or Regina.

    Emma didn't know why she let him get under her skin so much. Maybe it was childish naivete, maybe it was wounded pride, maybe it was just straight up envy, but this shouldn't be a problem for her. He was a stranger, a douchey, pretentious one at that.

    Mulan was sitting on the couch, history textbook and papers scattered around her. Emma's eyebrows knitted together. "Didn't you stay home to do homework?"

    "I did," she said.

    "And you're still doing it?"

    She shrugged. "I had a lot of homework."

    ( _Bullshit_ , her lie detector said. Emma left it alone.)

    

    


	4. The Aftermath and an Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ashley's party, many hangovers are dealt with, along with many other issues that have very little to blame on the alcohol.

     Growing closer and closer to sleep, Emma was interrupted by Mary Margaret entering their shared bedroom, positively glowing. Not in a Dr. Manhattan kind of way, but in a bride-to-be sort of way (oh god, Emma knew David and Mary Margaret hit it off, but that was a little  _fast_ , wasn't it?)

     "Why are _you_ so happy?" Emma grumbled into her pillow.

     "Careful. You're starting to sound like Regina." Mary Margaret sat on the end of Emma's bed. "What do you think of David?"

     "'S fine. Haven't really talked to him. Why, what do you think?"

     "Oh, it's uh, it's nothing. Just go back to sleep."

     Emma sat up and propped her arms on her knees.

     Mary Margaret relaxed into an easy smile. "I really like him," she said, "I mean, I know it's kind of fast, but he's nice and funny and-"

     "Mary Margaret?"

     "What?"

     "I'm glad you like him. Really, I am, but I'd play it cool, at least until you get a little reciprocation."

     "No, I know, Emma. I'm going to stay calm, stay collected, but I just- I like him. A _lot."_

Mary Margaret started giggling- the high-pitched, uncontrollable giggling one gets only when speaking of an infatuation or when thinking of something funny in an intensely quiet room- and Emma joined along. She couldn't help it. "You found your Prince Charming," Emma said, "Just- uh, be careful with it. Fairy tales have a history of being fragile."

     "Emma, what's going on?" Mary Margaret asked after a moment of confusion at Emma's romantic insight, "Did something happen between you and Killian? I saw you two when David introduced us."

     "Yeah, we danced together- before David and everything- but Lacey called, I left, and he was sucking face with someone else not five minutes later. Then Leroy found David and we _officially_ met."

     "I never really took you for the jealous type, Emma."

     "I'm not. I think he's a dick for completely unrelated reasons."

     Mary Margaret looked taken aback. "But he's David's best friend. I don't think he's a... _bad_ person."

     Emma rolled her eyes. "Really? Well, I overheard he and David talking. He said, and I quote, that I was _just a distraction. Decent enough, but not worth his time_."

     "I can't believe he would say that about you! David-"

     "Maybe David isn't as good a judge of character as you thought." Emma buried herself back underneath the covers, willingly forcing herself into a blissful coma. Mary Margaret didn't stir her.

\----------

     Emma woke up with a pounding in her head, and it brought comfort to her knowing that Belle and Ruby would definitely have it worse for wear. Granny was in the kitchen with an entire pot of black coffee made, glowing the exact same way Mary Margaret was last night, for the same reason- Mary Margaret had talked to the infamous David Nolan. Only for Granny, it wasn't just  _Mary Margaret likes this guy and he might like her;_ it was  _Mary Margaret likes this guy and now they're gonna get married so that she can move out of my house. YAY!_   She was making celebratory pancakes, reserved only for birthdays (and now sparsely projected weddings). 

     Belle was kneeling by the couch; rather, she was kneeling by a groggy, hungover Ruby who was nearing unconsciousness on the couch. Trying not to laugh, Belle put a pair of headphones in Ruby's ear, turning the volume up to full blast and not realizing how painful Ruby's scream would be to her own hangover (and Emma's). What a way to start the morning.

     Mary Margaret and Mulan seemed to be the only fully functional members of the family, unsurprisingly, and Mary Margaret, though sympathetic, was smugly smiling beneath her tea. Emma could hear her thoughts from here; "I told you not do drink." "See what you're doing to yourself?" "I can't believe you do this for fun." Whatever. It was her choice, but the only way to do things and not be totally embarrassed was through alcohol, and maybe she'd see that soon enough.

     What  _was_ surprising was seeing Regina exit the bathroom looking like hell. Normally Regina was able to make it to her apartment before she was too drunk to drive, but after Emma left, she must've transformed into the life of the party. "Good morning, Regina," Emma mumbled, and as she was facing similar symptoms, there was no hint of amusement.

     " _What's so good about it?"_  Regina growled, her voice laced with murder (well, more murder than usual).

     "Absolutely nothing. Even the pancakes are tainted with Granny's crazy."

     From the kitchen, Granny yelled, "It's only crazy until you're living successful lives!"

     "Yeah, if "successful" involves an arranged marriage, I will gladly be a failure."

     Mary Margaret looked up from the newspaper. "It is not an  _arranged marriage_ ," she argued, because getting together with the man her surrogate grandmother  _stalked_ is  _totally_ normal.

     Emma shot Regina a sarcastic side look, which Regina did not return. "Oh, come on, Emma," Regina said, "Name one thing you've actually found that's wrong with the man."

     Mulan's brow furrowed. "Did...did Regina and Mary Margaret just  _agree_ on something?"

     Emma shrugged in response. It was a rare occasion. The last time they had agreed on something was when Ruby brought home her first boyfriend, Peter, and announced that they were engaged (in their junior year). "Okay," Emma surrendered, "I have  _yet_ to find something wrong with him, but that doesn't mean I won't find it."

     Regina raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I know  _you_ think you've already found a flaw. Bad taste in friends, perhaps?"

     She wasn't sure, but she think her cheeks got a little hot. Not because Killian Jones was mentioned (of course not. Why would you think that?) but because Granny would go on a spree if she found out Emma danced with David Nolan's "best friend" (she was already mentally picking flowers for the wedding, Emma could tell). She sat down at the table in the seat next to Mary Margaret so that she could quietly whisper, "Does Granny know?"

     "No."

     "Mary Margaret."

     "Regina told her."

     Regina was sipping her coffee (playing innocent, that traitor). "Regina?" Emma crooned, also playing innocent, "Can I talk to you in private?" Regina met her in Emma and Mary Margaret's bedroom, not looking guilty at all. "Why the _hell_ would you tell Granny?"

     "You might not believe me now, but I did you a favor."

     "A  _favor?_ _"_

"Yes, I told Granny that you and Killian danced, but I also told her what he said about you. Don't worry. Granny hates him as much as you do now."

     Emma released a sigh of relief. "Nobody messes with her granddaughters."

     "Mmhmm. And just be glad that I didn't tell her what Kathryn told me."

     "What did she tell you?"

     "That she was grateful to be there, and that she was grateful Killian tagged along, because he's been in town since David bought the house a few weeks ago, and that he hasn't actually  _met_ anyone until tonight, which made her sad because he seemed so cripplingly lonely."

     Did Kathryn really say that? It was almost enough to make her pity him. Almost. He was still an arrogant dick. "Wait, why did she tell  _you_ all of this?"

     "I asked," Regina said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I wanted to get the full scoop on the guy you almost had wild sex with, who turned out to be the best friend of the guy who Mary Margaret is bound to have less wild sex with. A girl's got to know her scoop." Emma swears to god, if she and Regina had met in any other situation than being family, there was no way Regina would be alive. "What's  _important_ is that Granny doesn't want you to marry a man you dislike so vehemently. If I did this just to spite you, I would've only told her what Kathryn told me. See? I deserve your gratitude."

     Yep, definitely dead to her. Definitely dead to her  _multiple times._

     During breakfast, Belle, Ruby, Emma, and Regina hardly spoke at all, but Granny couldn't seem to stop talking. She went on and on about how her granddaughters were finally going out into the world and starting their futures, all without Mary Margaret commenting that she'd only met the guy once and didn't seem to have any other way to contact him at all, but that was about to change. Midway through Granny's rant about preferable towns to raise children in, there was a knock at the door that Emma was far too eager to answer. Seriously, she could only hear so much of Granny's "future talk" without asking to be stabbed with the nearest object (quick and painless, preferably).

     It was Leroy, who looked like someone had just insulted his boat (the most criminal of offenses, obviously). "Good morning," he said, not sounding like he was having a good morning.

     Emma smiled sympathetically. "There's coffee in the kitchen."

     "Hungover?"

     "Oh yeah." Emma checked her watch. It was 9:45. Leroy usually didn't get up on the wrong side of the bed until about two in the afternoon. "Why are  _you_ here so  _early_?"

     "Because I'm a stupendous friend," he grumbled, "David Nolan called me this morning, asking for the number of our resident princess who frolics in the forest with small animals."

     "And you gave it to him?"

     "Yes, but I'm not  _finished._ He also asked me to dinner tonight-"

     "How romantic."

     "Shut up. He asked me to dinner tonight, and he requested that you and Mary Margaret come along."

     "Wait, he wants _me_ there?"

     Leroy shrugged. "Hell if I know. He never met Turner and Hooch, and maybe Regina was just a little to cold-hearted for his taste. I don't know, but I suggest dressing well, sister. His new house might as well be the fucking Ritz."

\----------

     When Emma told the others about David's invitation, she didn't know who looked more excited. Oh, wait- yes she did. It was Granny, who looked ready to turn into a fucking firework show after cracking a few celebratory bottles of champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, after I wrote this chapter, I moved. We only just now got a computer set back up. I decided I didn't really like the way the story was headed, so this is just going to be a beta version. Version 1.0, if you will. I'm rewriting it, so if you liked it and want to keep reading, look for another story on my account with the same description.


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